2016 - The Sunday Before The Election
This election has me all the way fucked up.
I am always on edge, always one second away from losing my shit over the callousness and willful violence of white supremacy. I am exhausted because I have difficulty sleeping and eating. I am constantly on the verge of tears when I think about the heart of this country.
I don’t see the positive. I finally got the message, America. I should be prepared to die.
Every Black person I know is afraid. Their children are afraid. We are all afraid.
I can safely say I exist in a constant state of fight or flight. My significant other doesn’t know what to do. He tries but all I can do is feel how I feel and keep going through the everyday motions until the weight of my depression lifts and the knife edge of my anxiety dulls. I go silent. I rage. I eat too much. I don’t eat at all. I struggle with myself and everyone around me as I wonder what’s next. The people who could target me can do so easily. My skin does not allow me to hide in plain sight, like many white supremacists have been doing for years.
It's been hard to write. I force myself, sometimes, but I’ve been avoiding being alone with my pain for fear of what I may do. But I’m a fighter and I’ve lasted this long by learning to dial back, shut it down, avoid, avoid, avoid until I have the energy and the reserves to manage it. And when I can’t, I call my therapist and schedule an appointment or ten.
I exist in a state of enraged exhaustion – too agitated to sleep but too tired to act. And my body is not responding well. And as much as I want to take a break, back away, turn it off and pretend everything is fine, I can’t because I can’t trust the people around me to be humane, kind, and non-violent.
In all honesty, I want to run and hide.
But that is not the life I live. Instead, I’ll get up, go to work, love my spouse, remember to eat.
I’ll read, laugh, play, sleep, write, care and care and care.
And I will continue to work for a better future, despite how hopeless it often feels.